Colonel Thorndyke's Secret

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XI.

  Mark called that evening, as he had promised, upon Mrs. Cunningham.

  "I hope that you feel all the better for your day's rest, Millicent," hesaid.

  The girl looked quickly at him to see if there was any sarcasm in thequestion, but it was evident that the inquiry was made in earnest.

  "Yes, I feel better now," she said. "I have dozed a good deal today.I did not feel up to anything. Mrs. Cunningham's work has progressedwonderfully. I should say that she has done more today than sheordinarily finds time to do in a week. What have you been doing withyourself?"

  "I have been having a long talk with Mr. Prendergast about the losttreasure."

  "And of course he said that you would never find it, Mark?"

  "Well, yes, he distinctly expressed that opinion."

  "And afterwards?"

  "Afterwards I went to Bow Street and had a long talk also with the chiefofficer there."

  "I don't like the idea of your searching for this man, Mark. In thefirst place, I don't see why you should hope to succeed when the menwhose business it is to do such work have failed. In the next place, Ithink that you may get into serious danger."

  "That I must risk, Millicent. I have already proved a better shot thanhe is, and I am quite ready to take my chance if I can but come uponhim; that is the difficult part of the matter. I know that I shall needpatience, but I have plenty of time before me, and have great hopes thatI shall run him to earth at last."

  "But you would not know him if you saw him?"

  "I think I should," Mark said quietly; "at least, if he is the man thatI suspect."

  "Then you do suspect someone?" Mrs. Cunningham said, laying down herwork.

  "Yes, I know of no reason why you should not know it now. Isuspect--indeed, I feel morally certain--that the man who murdered myfather was Arthur Bastow."

  An exclamation of surprise broke from both his hearers, and theylistened with horror while he detailed the various grounds that he hadfor his suspicions. They were silent for some time after he had broughthis narrative to a conclusion, then Mrs. Cunningham said:

  "What a merciful release for Mr. Bastow that he should have died beforethis terrible thing came out! For after what you have told us I canhardly doubt that you are right, and that it is this wicked man who isguilty."

  "Yes, it was indeed providential," Mark said, "though I think that,feeble as he has been for some months, it might have been kept from him.Still, a word from a chance visitor, who did not associate Bastow themurderer with our dear old friend, might have enlightened him, and theblow would have been a terrible one indeed. It is true that, as it was,he died from the shock, but he did not know the hand that struck theblow."

  "Now that you have told me this," Millicent said, "I cannot blame you,Mark, for determining to hunt the man down. It seems even worse than itdid before; it is awful to think that anyone could cherish revenge likethat. Now tell me how you are going to set about it."

  "I have promised the chief officer that I will tell absolutely noone," he said. "I have a plan, and I believe that in time it must besuccessful. I know well enough that I could tell you both of it withoutany fear of its going further, but he asked me to promise, and I did sowithout reservation; moreover, I think that for some reasons it is aswell that even you should not know it. As it is, you are aware that I amgoing to try, and that is all. If I were to tell you how, you might bepicturing all sorts of imaginary dangers and worrying yourself overit, so I think that it will be much the best that you should remain inignorance, at any rate for a time. I can say this, that I shall for thepresent remain principally in London, and I think that I am more likelyto come upon a clew here than elsewhere."

  Millicent pouted, but Mrs. Cunningham said: "I think, perhaps, that youare right, Mark, and it is better that we should know nothing about it;we shall know that you are looking for a clew, but of course no dangercan arise until you obtain it and attempt to arrest him. I feel surethat you will do nothing rash, especially as if any harm befell you hemight escape unpunished, and therefore that when the time comes toseize him you will obtain such help as may be necessary, and will, ifpossible, arrest him at a moment when resistance is impossible."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Cunningham; I shall certainly spare no efforts intaking him that way, and would far rather he met his fate on a gibbetthan by a bullet from my pistol."

  "I agree with you, Mark," Millicent said; "even hanging is too good forsuch a wicked man. When are you going to set about it?"

  "I hope to be able to begin tomorrow," he said. "I am impatient to be atwork, even though I know perfectly well that it may be months before Ican get on his track. I hope to get a good deal of information as tothe habits of men of his kind from the Bow Street runners, and I have anappointment tomorrow morning to see their chief, who will give me everyassistance in his power."

  "Then you will not be able to take us out?" Millicent said.

  "I trust to do so later on, but I cannot say how long I shall beengaged. However, I hope to get away so as to go out with you afterlunch, and may possibly be able to postpone my getting regularly to workuntil after you have gone, so as to be able to devote myself to yourservice."

  "But what sort of work? I cannot make out how you are going to begin."

  "I can tell you this much, that to begin with I shall go in company witha constable to various places where such a man is likely to be found.It will take some time to acquaint myself with all these localities; thenext step will be to find out, if possible, if anyone at all answeringto his description is in the habit of coming there occasionally, andwhom he visits; another thing will be to find out the places wherereceivers of stolen goods do their business, and to watch those withwhom highwaymen are suspected of having dealings. All this, you see,will entail a lot of work, and require a very large amount of patience.Of course, if nothing whatever comes of such inquiries, I shall haveto try quiet places in the suburbs; you must remember that this fellowduring his time as a convict must have had opportunities of gettinga vast amount of information likely to be useful to him, such as theaddresses of men holding positions of apparent respectability, and yetin alliance with thieves. You may be sure that when he returned he tookevery imaginable pains to obtain a safe place of concealment beforehe began his work; my own opinion is that I am more likely to find himliving quietly in a suburban cottage than in a London slum."

  Millicent was now thoroughly interested in the search. "It seems a greatbusiness, Mark, but going into it as thoroughly as you are doing I feelsure that you will succeed. I only wish that I could help you; but Icould not do that, could I?" she asked wistfully.

  He saw that she was in earnest, and suppressed all semblance of a smile.

  "I am afraid, dear, that you would be a much greater source ofembarrassment than of assistance to me," he said gravely. "This isessentially not a woman's work. I believe that women are sometimesemployed in the detection of what we may call domestic crimes, but thisis a different matter altogether."

  "I suppose so," she sighed; "but it will be very hard to be taking ourease down at Weymouth while we know that you are, day after day, wearingyourself out in tramping about making inquiries."

  "It will be no more fatiguing than tramping through the stubble roundCrowswood after partridges, which I should probably be doing now if Iwere down there. By the way, before you go we shall have to talk overthe question of shutting up the house. We had too much to think of togo into that before we came away, and I suppose I shall have to run downand arrange it all, if you have quite made up your mind that you don'tmean to return for a year or two."

  "Decidedly our present idea is to have a few weeks at Weymouth, and thenwhen we feel braced up to come back here and look for a house. Where areyou likely to be, Mark?" Mrs. Cunningham asked.

  "I shall consult with Dick Chetwynd; he knows the town thoroughly, andis more up here than he is down in the country; he will recommend me tosome lodging in a street that, without being the height of fash
ion, isat least passable. I have not the least wish to become a regular manabout town, but I should like to go into good society. One cannot be atwork incessantly."

  The next morning the chief of the detective department told Mark that hehad decided to accept his offer.

  "As you will receive no pay," he said, "I shall regard you as a sort ofvolunteer. For the first two or three months you will spend your time ingoing about with one or other of my men on his work. They will be ableto put you up to disguises. When you have once learned to know all thethieves' quarters and the most notorious receivers of stolen goods,you will be able to go about your work on your own account. All thatI require is that you shall report yourself here twice a day. Should Ihave on hand any business for which you may appear to me particularlywell suited, I shall request you to at once undertake it, and from timeto time, when there is a good deal of business on hand, I may get you toaid one of my men who may require an assistant in the job on which he isengaged."

  "I am sure I am very much obliged to you, sir," Mark said, "and will,I can assure you, do my best in every way to assist your men in anybusiness in which they may be engaged."

  "When will you begin?"

  "It is Saturday today, sir. I think I will postpone setting to untilMonday week. My cousin and the lady in whose charge she is came up withme on Thursday, and will be leaving town the end of next week, andI should wish to escort them about while here. I will come on Mondaymorning ready for work. How had I better be dressed?"

  "I should say as a countryman. A convenient character for you to beginwith will be that of a man who, having got into a poaching fray, andhurt a gamekeeper, has made for London as the best hiding place. Youare quite uncertain about your future movements, but you are thinking ofenlisting."

  "Very well, sir, I will get the constable at Reigate, who knows me well,to send me a suit. I might find it difficult to get all the things Iwant here."

  Accordingly, for the next week Mark devoted himself to the ladies.Millicent, in her interest in the work that he was about to undertake,had now quite got over her fit of ill temper, and the old cordialrelations were renewed. On the Friday he saw them into the Weymouthcoach, then sauntered off to his friend Chetwynd's lodgings.

  Ramoo had already sailed. On his arrival in town he had said that heshould, if possible, arrange to go out as a steward.

  "Many men of my color who have come over here with their masters go backin that way," he said, in answer to Mark's remonstrances. "It is muchmore comfortable that way than as a passenger. If you go third class,rough fellows laugh and mock; if you go second class, men look as muchas to say, 'What is that colored fellow doing here? This is no place forhim.' Much better go as steward; not very hard work; very comfortable;plenty to eat; no one laugh or make fun."

  "Well, perhaps it would be best, when one comes to think of it, Ramoo;but I would gladly pay your passage in any class you like."

  "Ramoo go his own way, sahib," he said. "No pay passage money; me go todocks where boats are sailing, go on board and see head steward. Headsteward glad enough to take good servant who is willing to work hisway out, and ask for no wages. Head steward draw wages for him, and putwages in his own pocket. He very well satisfied."

  On Wednesday he came and told Mark that he had arranged to sail in theNabob, and was to go on board early the next morning. He seemed a greatdeal affected, and Mark and Millicent were equally sorry to part withthe faithful fellow.

  "Well, old man," Dick Chetwynd said, when Mark entered the room, wherehe was still at breakfast, "I was beginning to wonder whether you hadgone to Reigate. Why, when I saw you last Friday you told me that youwould look me up in a day or two."

  "I have been busy showing London to Mrs. Cunningham and Miss Conyers,"he replied--for Millicent had insisted on keeping her former name, atany rate for the present--and Mark was somewhat glad that there had beenno necessity for entering into any explanations. It was agreed thatwhen he went down to discharge some of the servants and called upon hisfriends he should say nothing of the change in his position, but shouldassign as a motive that he intended to travel about for a long time, andthat he felt he could not settle down in the lonely house, at anyrate for two or three years; and therefore intended to diminish theestablishment.

  "You will have some breakfast, Mark?"

  "No, thank you. I breakfasted two hours ago."

  "Then you still keep to your intention to stay in London for a while?"

  "Yes. I don't feel that I could bear the house alone," Mark replied. "Yousee, Mrs. Cunningham and my uncle's ward could not very well remain in abachelor's home, and naturally, after what has happened, they would notlike to do so, even if they could. They have gone down to Weymouth fora few weeks for a complete change; and Mrs. Cunningham talks of takinga house in town for a time. I am going to look for lodgings, and I wantyour advice as to the quarter likely to suit me."

  "Why not take up your abode here for a time? There is a vacant room, andI should be very glad to have you with me."

  "Thank you very much, Dick, but I should prefer being alone. You willhave friends dropping in to see you, and at present I should be poorcompany. It will be some little time before I shall feel equal tosociety."

  "Of course, Mark. I always speak first and think afterwards, as you knowpretty well by this time. Well, what sort of lodgings do you want?"

  "I want them to be in a good but not in a thoroughly fashionable street.In time, no doubt, I shall like a little society, and shall get you tointroduce me to some of the quieter of your friends, and so graduallyfeel my way."

  "I will do all that sort of thing for you, Mark. As you know, I am notone of those who see much fun in gambling or drinking, though one mustplay a little to be in the fashion. Still, I never go heavily into it.I risk a few guineas and then leave it. My own inclinations lie rathertowards sport, and in this I can indulge without being out of thefashion. All the tip top people now patronize the ring, and I do soin my small way too. I am on good terms with all the principal prizefighters, and put on the gloves with one or other of them pretty nearlyevery day. I have taken courses of lessons regularly from four or fiveof them, and I can tell you that I can hold my own with most of theCorinthians. It is a grand sport, and I don't know how I should geton without it; after the hard exercise I was accustomed to down in thecountry, it keeps one's muscles in splendid order, and I can tell youthat if one happens to get into a fight in the streets, it is no lightthing to be able to polish off an antagonist in a round or two withoutgetting a mark on your face that would keep you a prisoner in your roomfor a week or more."

  "Yes, I should like very much to take lessons too, Dick; it is one ofthe things that I have always wished to do. I suppose one can do it ofan evening, or any time you like?"

  "Yes, any hour suits those fellows. You ought to get either a heavymiddleweight or a light heavyweight; you will be a heavyweight yourselfby the time you have filled out. Let me think; what is your height--sixfeet one, if I remember rightly?"

  "Yes, that is about it."

  "Well, with your shoulders and long reach and activity, you ought to besomething out of the way if you take pains, Mark. You see, I am barelyfive feet ten, and am something like two stone lighter than you are. Isuppose you are not much under twelve stone and a half."

  "That is just about my weight; I weighed at the miller's only afortnight ago."

  "Good. I will make some inquiries, and see who would be the best man totake you in hand to begin with. And now about lodgings. Well, I shouldsay Essex Street, or any of those streets running down from the Strand,would suit you. The rooms in Essex Street are bigger than those inBuckingham Street, and you will find anything between the two in some ofthe others. I may as well saunter round there with you. Of course moneyis no object to you?"

  "No," Mark agreed, "but I don't want big rooms. I think a small one,when you are sitting by yourself, is more cozy and comfortable."

  Finally two rooms were taken in Villiers Street; they were of moderates
ize and handsomely furnished: the last tenant had fitted them out forhimself, but had lived to enjoy them only three months, having at theend of that time been killed in a duel over a quarrel at cards.

  "Well, I think you are in luck, Mark; you might look through a good manystreets before you would find rooms so fashionably furnished as these. Isee he went in for driving; that is evident from these engravings on thewalls."

  "They are common, gaudy looking things," Mark said, "and quite out ofcharacter with the furniture."

  "Not at all, as times go, Mark; it is quite the thing for a man to haveprints showing his tastes, riding or driving, shooting or coaching, orthe ring. If you don't like them you can take them down, or, what willbe better, take them out of their frames and put some of the championspast and present up there instead."

  "I will see about it," Mark said with a laugh. "I may turn out acomplete failure."

  "There is no fear of that, Mark; and as the ring is all the fashion now,I can assure you it would be considered in good taste, though I own thatin point of art most of these things leave a good deal to be desired.Now that that important thing is settled, suppose you come and lunchwith me in Covent Garden? I don't belong to a club yet, though I havegot my name down at a couple of them, but as far as I can see they areslow sort of places unless you know a lot of people. The coffee housesare much more amusing; you see people of all sorts there--fellows likemyself, who have no clubs to go to; country gentlemen up for a week;a few writers, who, by the way, are not the best customers of theseplaces; men whom nobody knows, and men whom everybody knows. Of course,the best time to see them is of an evening."

  "Yes, I have generally been in of an evening when I have been up intowns Dick, and I have always been amused. However, I am quite ready tolunch there now, for I breakfasted early."

  "I have to make some calls this afternoon, Mark. At seven this eveningI will look in at your lodgings, and you shall go along with me toIngleston's in St. Giles'. It is one of the headquarters of the fancy,and Jack Needham, who taught me, is safe to be there, and he will tellme who he thinks is best for you to begin with."

  Accordingly, after taking luncheon, they separated, and Mark went to hisinn.

  Ingleston's was at that time regarded as the headquarters of the fancy.At the back of the house was a large room, with benches rising behindeach other to accommodate the spectators. Here, on the evenings when itwas known that leading men would put on the gloves, peers of the realmwould sit side by side with sporting butchers, and men of fashion backtheir opinion on a coming prize fight with ex-pugilists and publicans. Anumber of men were assembled in the bar; among these was Jack Needham.

  "Good evening, Mr. Chetwynd," the man said as they came up to him. "It'sgoing to be a good night. Tring and Bob Pratt are going to have a roundor two together, and Gibbons will put on the gloves with anyone wholikes to take him on."

  "This gentleman is Mr. Thorndyke, a squire, Jack, whose place is nearmine at Reigate. He has come up to town for a few months, and wants tolearn how to use his mauleys. I told him that you would advise him as towho would be the best man for him to go to."

  "I can tell you better when I have seen him strip, sir. There is no onein the big room at present. It won't be open for half an hour. Inglestonkeeps it shut as long as he can so as to give everyone a fair chance ofa good place. If the gentleman will come in there with me I will have alook at him."

  Mark expressed his willingness to be looked at, and the man having goneand got the key of the room from Ingleston, went in with them and lockedthe door behind.

  "Now, sir, if you will strip to the waist I shall be better able to saywho you should have as your teacher than I can now."

  Mark stripped, and the man walked round and round him, examining himcritically.

  "He's a big 'un," he said to Dick when he had completed his examination."He has got plenty of muscle and frame, and ought to be a tremendoushitter; he is about the figure of Gibbons, and if he goes in for itreally, ought to make well nigh as good a man, if not quite. I don'tthink Bill would care about taking him up till he knows a bit about it.I tell you what, sir; you will be too big altogether for me by the timeyou get to be quick on your legs, and to use your strength, but if youlike I will take you on for a month or so--say, two months; by that timeI think you will be good enough to go to Gibbons. I will just call himin if you don't mind; he came in just before you."

  In a couple of minutes he came in with a man of similar height andsomewhat similar figure to Mark.

  "This is Gibbons, sir, ex-champion, and like enough he might be championnow if he chose; as fine a boxer as ever stripped, but he is ring makernow to the P. C. and it suits him better to do that and to teach, thanto have a chance of getting a battle once a year or so."

  "Have you a great many pupils, Gibbons?"

  The man shook his head.

  "I am too big, sir; gentlemen like to learn from someone about theirown weight, or perhaps a bit lighter, and there are not many of themwho would care to stand up against a man who has been champion, and so Ihave plenty of time on my hands. I am a hard hitter, too, even with thegloves; that is one reason why Jack had best take you on until you geta little handy with your fists. I do more in the dog fancier line thanI do with boxing, but there is nothing I like better than getting thegloves on with an amateur who is likely to be a credit to me. That is mycard, sir; you will find me in pretty nearly any time of the day, andI have got a place behind the house where I do teaching when I geta chance. It is handy in one way, because you can drop in and take alesson any time you like."

  "That would suit me exceedingly well," Mark said; "and when I have had acouple of months with Needham I will come to you."

  Mark now put on his clothes again, and they went out together, andre-entered a few minutes later, when the door was open. The benches weresoon crowded. Mark had been to several prize fights with Dick Chetwynd,had often boxed with him and other lads, and had had lessons from anex-prize fighter at Reigate, and was therefore able to appreciate thescience shown by the various men who confronted each other. The event ofthe evening was the contest between Tring and Bob Pratt; both were verypowerful men, who were about to go into strict training for matches thathad been made for them against two west countrymen, who were thoughtvery highly of by their friends, and who were regarded as possiblecandidates for the championship.

  Bob Pratt was a stone heavier than his opponent, but far less active,and owed his position more to his ability to take punishment, and tohard hitting powers, than to his science. In the two rounds that werefought, Tring had the advantage, but the general opinion was that in thelong run the other would wear him down. Both fought with good temper,and were warmly applauded as they shook hands at the finish.

  "I think I should back Tring in a fight," Mark said, as the meetingbroke up, "but it is difficult to say, for he is in better conditionthan the other, and it may be that when both are thoroughly fit theheavy man might show more improvement than he would do."

  The hat was passed round at the conclusion: Every man dropped in hisguinea, some more, it being understood that the collection was dividedbetween the two men to pay the expenses of their training.